


To Be The King's Shield

by rinthegreat



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gladio character study, M/M, Set in Canonverse, semi-pre-slash, spoilers through chapter 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 02:03:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18540061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinthegreat/pseuds/rinthegreat
Summary: Gladio always wanted to be the King's Shield for as long as he can remember.A character study of Gladio through Chapter 6 with a few added scenes.





	To Be The King's Shield

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first fic in the FFXV universe. I played it for the first time earlier this year and I fell absolutely in love with the characters and the world. I hope I did them justice in here and that you like it! :)
> 
> P.S. There's now art at the end!

“I trust you are aware of what this journey entails,” is how Ignis brings it up. It’s the night before they’re due to leave and take Noctis on his trip to Altissia, and the three of them – Gladio, Ignis, and Prompto – are meeting for one final review before they leave. Or at least they’re supposed to be. Prompto is late as usual, so Gladio is lounging in Ignis’ kitchen snacking on the extra ingredients Ignis chops for him while he cooks.

“I was at the same trainings as you, Iggy,” Gladio replies good naturedly. “Or did you forget already?”

Ignis shoots him a glare before snatching the cutting board overflowing with vegetables away and dropping them all into the pan with a sizzle. “You know what I mean.”

“No,” Gladio replies, “I don’t.”

With a sigh, Ignis turns back to him leaning back against the counter, presumably so he can still see the food out of the corner of his eye. “I’ve seen the way the prince looks at you. I should hope I don’t need to remind you that your sworn duty is to protect him, nothing more.”

For a moment, Gladio’s temper flares. Ignis might be the smart one, the one who takes care of them, but Gladio is older. He’s been training for this his entire life; he knows better than anyone that his duty is to protect the prince, the future King. But before he can open his mouth to say that, he catches the expression behind Ignis’ glasses, visible for just a moment before the glare from the light covers it again.

Pity. And maybe a little guilt.

The anger doesn’t subside completely, but it cools just enough for Gladio to change his mind from saying what would likely ruin their friendship. “Yeah,” he concedes. “I’ve seen it too.”

He’d tried to write it off at first as admiration. He’s older, stronger, and he’s the one who trains with Noctis every day. He’d thought Noctis had been like Iris; idolizing him as an invincible older brother. But Noctis had gotten stronger. A lot stronger. He can often hold his own against Gladio in training, and after a while Gladio had been able to tell that the light in Noct’s eyes hadn’t been because he’d seen stars.

Gladio groaned. “What do you think I’m gonna do? I can’t confront him about this.”  _He’s our future King_  goes unsaid between them.

“Well,” Ignis responds slowly. “You could try being less…” He gestures with the spatula in Gladio’s general direction.

“Less what?”

“You know.”

“No,” Gladio repeats. “I don’t.”

Ignis sighs again, pushing his glasses up against the bridge of his nose. “You could try wearing a shirt.”

Gladio glances down at himself. “I am wearing a shirt.”

“An unbuttoned one. With nothing underneath.”

“I overheat.”

“You’re going to cause an international incident.”

Gladio frowns. “Noct might have a crush but he’s in love with Lady Lunafreya. Nothing’s going to stop him from marrying her.”

“I certainly hope you’re right,” Ignis says, turning back to the stove.

“You gonna have this same conversation with Blondie when he gets here?” Gladio jokes.

“Prompto is the one with the crush in that situation,” Ignis replies without looking at him. “So far he’s done nothing to step out of line. If he does, though, we will have a talk.”

“Geez,” Gladio says. “You never relax, do you?”

“Not when it comes to doing my job,” is the terse reply.

\---

When the journey first began, Noctis had seemed nothing but mildly irritated with the whole event. Gladio hadn’t been sure if that was because his father had sent him away right when the Empire was due to sign the peace treaty or if it was because Noctis thought his father didn’t trust him to go alone.

Going on a road trip with friends is one thing, but being required to take an entourage? Another thing entirely.

It hadn’t helped that the people they’ve met keep treating him more like a wayward child than the Crown Prince of Lucis. Noctis has never really been a fan of that after all.

Then…well. Then things had taken a turn for the worst. Ignis brings word that Insomnia was taken during the signing of the peace treaty and King Regis has been assassinated.

Gladio’s at a loss as to how things had gotten so bad so quickly. Just yesterday he’d woken up Noctis and challenged him to a race, threatening to make the prince wake up at dawn every morning if he’d lost. He’d let Noctis win, sure, and the irritation had finally fallen away as the prince relaxed and began enjoy the trip for what it was: a break.

But 24 hours later as they stand in the hotel room, Gladio can feel the walls closing in. He hasn’t heard from Iris in days; since before they left. Prompto is openly panicking. Ignis looks like a second stick was shoved up his ass in the middle of the night. And to top it off, Noctis is just sitting there, staring into space with an empty expression.

This road trip went from being their last fun adventure before Noctis’ wedding to their last adventure. Possibly ever.

“Turn back?” Gladio asks, and all three of them look to Noctis.

The prince swallows, not meeting any of their eyes. “Yeah.”

\---

The drive back to Insomnia is miserable to say the least.

“I hope…everyone’s okay,” Prompto mutters. Iris’ face flashes before Gladio’s eyes, and he grits back a response. He doesn’t have a lot of ties back in Insomnia; his closest friends are in the car with him. But he hopes to hell that Iris made it out alive.

Noctis, unlike Prompto, seems to have taken to being openly negative. He sighs. “Lotta good hoping’s gonna do.”

“You mustn’t lose faith,” Ignis lectures. Without needing to look over, Gladio can feel Noctis’ anger rising to the surface.

“Really?” Noctis snaps back sarcastically. “Can faith stop a fleet of imperial dreadnoughts?”

“Give it a rest,” Gladio grunts.

Noctis ignores him. “My old man had plenty of faith -!”

“Enough,” Gladio interrupts before the prince can rant. He rests his hand on Noctis’ knee on impulse, and to his relief, Noctis cuts himself off.

Gladio doesn’t blame Noctis for breaking down over the news. Not really. But Ignis is right, as usual. Everything they know is conjecture; without word from the capital itself, they have no way of knowing if the press is exaggerating or not. They need to get in there and see what’s happened for themselves.

Unfortunately, Gladio’s never been much of one for strategic planning. That’s Ignis’ job, and to a different extent, Noctis’. Gladio isn’t stupid by any means, but sitting and thinking about what they could see or what could’ve happened without knowing what it really is? It’s torture.

The car hits a bump as they turn off onto the dirt road, and Gladio’s hand smacks down on Noctis’ knee, startling Gladio back to reality. He hadn’t realized that he’d still been touching the prince. He lets go, resting his hand back on his own leg instead. It should be more comfortable than reaching across the back seat, but it feels wrong somehow.

Noctis doesn’t even look away from the window.

It’s almost a relief to fight the soldiers guarding the hills. The battle is mind numbing and at least makes Gladio feel less helpless than he had just sitting in the car. With each soldier that collapses, he tells himself that’s one less that he has to worry about coming after them next. One less soldier to fight for the Empire.

But then. 

Then Prompto finally gets a signal.

“In the wake of the news of King Regis’ death, we’ve now received word that Crown Prince Noctis and the Oracle Lunafreya have also been pronounced dead.”

“Keep it on,” Gladio instructs quickly, knowing that Prompto will try to shut it off after hearing that.

He’s right, but in trying to obey Gladio, Prompto drops the phone on the ground, and the report shuts off on its own. That’s all it takes to trigger Noctis again.

“Don’t bother!” he shouts.

Silence falls around the four of them temporarily.

The good news, Gladio supposes, is that if Noctis is declared dead, then there won’t be as many people searching for him. While it’s most likely that he was pronounced dead by the Empire as a way to destroy any hopes of a rebellion, there’s still a chance that someone out there had been looking out for Noctis. It’s a small hope to have, but it’s the one he clings to, now that their worst assumptions have been proven true.

It doesn’t take long before Noctis is furious again, just like he’d been in the car. But this time, Gladio can’t calm him down. Noctis is ten feet away, yelling into his phone, while Gladio’s calls to Iris keep going straight to voicemail.

His job was supposed to be easy. He’d been training for years to be the King’s Shield; its what he’d wanted for longer than he can remember. He’d dreamed of glory and battle scars and all those careless dreams that only a child would think aren’t nightmares. And every day when he’d left after his dawn training and encountered the other soldiers coming in, he’d been told that all of it it was a waste. That the King’s Shield would be nothing but a title. That he was training hard now only to become a fat puppet of a symbol later.

That Shields aren’t valuable in eras of peace.

A sharp intake of breath breaks him from his mental spiral, and Gladio turns to see Noctis staring at the city. The prince’s hand falls to his side, and all the energy that he’d been carrying when he’d yelled at Cor on the phone disappears entirely.

\---

Gladio settles in for another tense car ride, back to Hammerhead this time. It isn’t until they’re well on the road before he finally gets a text from Iris and the weight that had been settling on his shoulders lifts just a little bit.

Not enough. 

Noctis is five words short of a mental breakdown, and there’s nothing any of them can do. Hearing that his father is dead is one thing, but knowing that it’s true is something else entirely. In a way, it’s a relief when they find Cor. He takes them to a royal tomb before giving them something of a task. One that, to Gladio, feels like a complete waste of time.

He hadn’t paid as much attention in his history classes as Ignis had, but the power of kings does sound, well, powerful. It can likely help Noctis take back the throne, but it still doesn’t seem immediately helpful in destroying the Empire. Searching for toys left by a bunch of dead royalty doesn’t have the same  _take them all down now_  feel that Gladio needs at the moment. Their capital, the place where they were all born had just been taken from them, and instead they’re wandering through some mines on word that there  _should_  be a royal tomb here.

At least there actually  _is_ one here.

Unlike the first one, the mines have monsters and daemons blocking the way. It’s a maze inside, one that takes ages for them to get through and find the tomb itself. They’re exhausted from battle by the time they make it there and back to the entrance.

It is miserably late, but the four of them make it back to the outpost unscathed by some miracle. Gladio’s muscles ache from the number of daemons they took out in the mines, and even Ignis is less adamant about making something “substantial” for dinner than he usually is. Prompto sways as he walks, snapping pictures without even looking at his camera, and Noctis takes three tries just to get the chairs up. By the time Ignis calls dinner, it’s 1 a.m. and Gladio’s given up on making the tent structurally sound and instead hopes that there isn’t a storm while they’re asleep.

Prompto falls asleep mid-meal and has to be woken up by Ignis before he drowns himself in the soup they’re having for a late dinner. Noctis keeps missing his mouth, spilling the broth down his chin. It would’ve been funny at any other time, but Gladio doesn’t have much energy to find it enjoyable. He keeps losing focus and dropping his spoon back into his bowl.

Prompto is the first to give up on eating. He passes his half-finished bowl to Ignis, mumbles something unintelligible to Noctis, and disappears inside the tent. Gladio barely notices, his eyes already glazing over. His focus gets momentarily snapped back when Ignis snatches his bowl before it can slip out of his fingers and shatter on the rocks before his eyes cross again.

As usual, Ignis can never just go to bed and leave chores for the morning, so he insists on cleaning all their items before bed. Usually Gladio at least attempts to help, but tonight he’s still staring sightless into the fire as the sight of Noctis getting stabbed by the spider in the caves plays repeatedly before his eyes.

He doesn’t even realize that he’s zoned out completely until the sound of someone clearing their throat banishes the image of Noctis falling to his knees for the hundredth time, poisoned or dead, from in front of his eyes. He blinks and looks up, seeing the real Noctis peering down at him with an unreadable expression.

“Yeah?” he asks, unable to summon even enough energy to be embarrassed by how hoarse his voice is at the moment.

“I said are you going to sit out here all night?” Noctis says. In any normal circumstance, Gladio knows he’d be raising his eyebrows, maybe even smirking down at Gladio, pleased that he’d gotten the upper hand. Noctis can be such a shit sometimes.

As it is though, it’s too dark out and Gladio’s having issues just keeping Noctis as one person rather than splitting the image into two, so he’s not sure he can see anything. The words take longer to process in his brain than he should, and when they do, his body decides that now is the time to tell him that it is, in fact, cold outside.

“No,” he mumbles, standing up. “I’m going to bed.”

Noctis nods – or at least, Gladio thinks he does – and turns his back, leading them both into the tent.

It takes more effort than it should for Gladio to pull off his pants and exchange his shirt for the tank he sleeps in, but he gets there eventually. He’s all set to collapse onto his sleeping pad just like Prompto is when he sees the barrier in front of it. A living breathing barrier in the form of Noctis, also stripped down to boxers and his sleeping shirt.

“Can I…?” Noctis trails off. He’s not looking at Gladio, staring instead somewhere to the right of his feet.

For a moment, Gladio’s strongly reminded of Iris when she was younger. He’d spend the day teasing her about monsters under her bed only to have her appear later that night, clutching her stuffed moogle to her chest, asking if she could please stay with him instead. Noctis is older, and instead of a moogle, he’s gripping the hem of his shirt tight in his fists. Gladio focuses on that as he responds.

“Yeah. Sure.”

The bedroll is barely large enough for one of them, but somehow they make it work. Or at least, Gladio assumes they do. He’s so tired that the second his head hits the pillow he’s out like a light.

He wakes up the next morning to a cold back and an empty tent. Confusion about both things flow through him as he tries to recall the previous day: meeting Cor at Regis’ tomb then delving into the mines to find the second. Everyone else must be up, he assumes, so he gets dressed before stepping out into bright sunlight.

“Nice of you to finally wake up,” Ignis greets.

Gladio is still trying to adjust his eyes to the sunlight when Ignis shoves a plate into his hands. “What time is it?”

“It’s nearly 10 am,” Ignis responds. “Eat. Gods know you didn’t eat enough last night.”

Gladio has more questions, but his stomach rumbles, telling him that Ignis is right (as usual), so he sits down on the nearest chair and goes about devouring the food. It doesn’t take him long, which makes sense given how little he’d apparently eaten the night before, and he’s left noticing a distinct lack of others at the haven.

“Where’s Noct?”

“He and Prompto left to speak with Monica not long ago.” For some reason, Ignis’ tone is clipped. He’s about to ask why when rustling announces the others return.

“Please say you have some leftovers of that,” Prompto says as his head appears over the crest.

“You’ll need to wash your hands before eating it,” Ignis replies.

Noctis follows Prompto up into the haven, and Gladio is only aware that he’d been worried about the prince when his shoulders relax. “Well?” Gladio prompts. “What did she have to say?”

“There’s a back way in,” Noctis tells them. He takes the plate that Ignis offers, sitting in the open chair across from Gladio. “She marked the route for us.”

“It won’t be easy,” Ignis says, “taking down an imperial base.”

“We can handle it,” Prompto answers easily, plopping down in the seat next to Noctis. “Right Noct?”

“Oh, you know it,” Noctis responds good naturedly.

Gladio chuckles. “You two really think your scrawny bodies are up to the task? You’re starving just climbing this rock.”

The look Noct gives him is exactly what Gladio had been hoping for. Exasperation mixed with minor annoyance. Gladio’s always riled Noctis up like this. Prompto’s glare, however, is not what he expected. Prompto’s face is cold, his eyes hard. Gladio’s only ever see him wear that expression when focused on a target during battle. For the life of him, Gladio can’t imagine why he’s getting it right now.

“We’d best get a move on,” Ignis tells them, bringing Gladio’s attention away from Prompto. “We’ve burned enough daylight as it is.”

He doesn’t get a chance to pull Prompto aside while they clean up. Something is definitely wrong with him though, because he’s noticeably giving Gladio the cold shoulder while they clean. Gladio debates kicking the back of his seat while they drive until Prompto snaps and finally tells him why he looks like Gladio killed his pet chocobo, but he refrains. 

His chance comes after they reach the base and split up. Gladio can feel the muscles in his back and neck tighten when Noctis agrees so easily to leave them behind and trust entirely in Cor. But Gladio has no reason to argue. Creating a diversion will help keep the heat off of Noctis, so that’s what they’ll do.

The instant they part, Monica sets about scouting forward, leaving the others behind. Prompto shoots one more nearly poisonous look at Gladio before following after her before Gladio can even say ‘wait’.

“What crawled up his ass and died?” he grunts to Ignis when they’re alone.

Ignis pushes his glass up, giving Gladio a long look before replying. “Prompto was awake before I was this morning. And I was awake before Noctis.”

“So?”

Ignis sighs. “Tell me you aren’t that dense.”

He opens his mouth to ask what the hell that means, when the rest of the night’s events come tumbling back into his mind. He swallows back his retort and instead says, “The kid just lost his dad. It’s not like anything happened.”

“You thought you could spend the night with the Crown Prince and nothing bad would come of it?” Ignis asks, clearly shocked.

“No,” Gladio responds before the conversation can get out of hand. “I was half asleep and agreed to let Noct share my bedroll. I didn’t even remember that happening until now.”

“So you didn’t think,” Ignis concludes. Gladio bristles. Ignis is right, but that doesn’t mean Gladio has to like it.

“Look I said nothing happened. We were fully dressed and all that happened is we slept. You can’t tell me you’re so heartless that you’d have turned the kid away.”

Ignis adjusts his jacket. “ _I_  am not the one Noctis has been pining after for the past several years.”

It’s only a crush, and Noctis is hardly the kind to pine. But Gladio doesn’t want to repeat this conversation again. “It doesn’t matter,” he says. “We have a distraction to create.”

\---

After they take down the base and head to Duscae, Gladio figures that should be the end of it. Most of the initial anger from the empire’s betrayal had drained from Noctis over the course of the battle, the way it had from him, Ignis, and even Prompto. He’s noticeably calmer in the car, sounding almost like his old self while they discuss the prospects of camping and exploring the world. That night had been a one-time thing.

So when he feels a weight press against his back that night in the tent, it’s a surprise. It wakes him up, and Gladio jumps up and barely stops himself from driving his fist into the scull of the person lying there.

Noctis. Again.

“Noct?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” is the only answer he gets. Noctis turns to face away from Gladio, leaving only his back exposed.

Gladio, fist still raised to strike, glances guiltily first towards Ignis’ bedroll then Prompto’s. Neither of them seem to have noticed. He can’t turn Noctis down, even when he knows he should. With a sigh, he lies back down, taking care to keep his back to Noctis. “Only for tonight,” he allows.

Noctis doesn’t answer.

_Only for tonight_  doesn’t even last a day. Noctis weasels his way into Gladio’s bedroll the next night without waiting for Gladio to approve it, and then again the night after that.

Prompto and Ignis are both aware of the situation. For lack of a better word. More than once, Ignis has shaken Gladio awake while Noctis is still sleeping next to him. Gladio, who used to wake up at dawn almost daily, is now starting to adapt to Noctis’ sleep schedule.

That’s what scares him the most.

But aside from the lecture Ignis had given him after the first time, neither of them say anything about it. Noctis acts mostly the same during the day, though he has taken to staring off into the distance for long stretches of time, especially when they’re in the car. Eventually, when all that happens between Gladio and Noctis is that they sleep, Prompto finally thaws, treating Gladio the same as he had before. Soon, this becomes the new normal for them with the only change being that, after the first few times, Gladio insists that Noctis drag his bedroll over so they have more room.

The days stretch into a week, then two as they make their way to Lestallum. It’s the King’s duty to protect his people, and Noctis takes that almost as a challenge. They take on any task, big or small, that can make the citizens lives better. And though Gladio is itching to check on his sister and make sure she wasn’t hurt at all in the attack, he can’t deny that what they’re doing  _is_ garnering support for the true king.

Eventually they make their way to Lestallum, where Iris has been waiting for them. She looks exactly the same as before, no visible scratches or bruises. Gladio takes a mental note to ask about that later though; after all, it has been a few weeks. Bruises fade, but memories don’t disappear so easily.

“So…about Lady Lunafreya. I keep hearing she was in town,” Iris tells them once they’re all alone. Gladio braces himself for Noctis’ anger to flare again. He’s been dreading what will happen once they find out that two of the three rumors had been true. “Apparently she left right away, but at least it means she’s okay.”

Gladio’s gaze shoots over to Ignis in surprise. After all the bad they’d heard and seen, Gladio had been sure that Noctis’ bride-to-be had really been dead. Ignis looks similarly shocked, and almost in unison the two of them turn their attention to Noctis. The relief on the prince’s face is so noticeable that it’s hard to even look at. Gladio looks away, watching Iris instead.

“Good to hear,” Noctis murmurs. “Thanks.”

Iris stands. “Yeah, well. Get a good night’s rest.” And she leaves them all with that bomb.

Silence fills the room but, predictably, Prompto is the first to break it. “So Lady Luna…is alive?”

“It does appear that way,” Ignis responds. “This is a most pleasant surprise.”

“You must be happy to hear that,” Gladio hears himself say.

“Yeah,” Noctis agrees in a warm voice. Finally, Gladio brings himself to look at the prince again. Noctis is smiling to himself, hair covering his eyes. “I am.”

Gladio looks away.

They’ve stayed in motels and caravans when they’ve been able to, but for the most part they’ve spent the past two weeks camping between hunts, so it’s a relief to have a place with running water and real soap. They take their time showering and setting out some of their clothes for housekeeping to launder, each of them spending more time than usual washing off. Even though Gladio  _likes_  camping, he has to admit that it’s nice to finally be completely clean again.

Or at least, he is until it’s time for bed. He’s the second to shower, going after Ignis but before Noctis and Prompto – who both take more time than necessary – so when he comes out he takes the biggest of the four beds they were given, sitting up and reading while Ignis meticulously organizes his knives.

Prompto’s cleaning out his guns while Noctis showers, and Noctis’ arrival is announced by Prompto’s shout. “Woohoo! Bathtime!”

Gladio glances up from his book. Noctis is standing there, hair still damp, clutching his dirty clothes to his chest. He makes eye contact with Gladio, and the two of them stare silently at each other for a moment before Noctis blinks and looks away. “I’m gonna…” He gestures vaguely towards the bed by the window.

Gladio blinks, not quite understanding yet. “What?”

“I’m gonna get some sleep,” Noctis replies.

“Oh.”

“You don’t need to turn out the light. Prompto still needs it.”

Gladio is at a complete loss as to what to say. The bed by the window is the smallest of them. It’s the one Ignis or Prompto would’ve taken had they known they needed all four beds. The one Gladio’s in now is the one they all would’ve left for Noctis. But instead, Noctis is walking slowly over to the small bed crammed near the window, dropping his socks on the floor behind him.

Ignis appears almost immediately. “I will add that to the pile of laundry to be cleaned,” he says, taking the pile from Noctis. “Are you hungry?”

Noctis shakes his head, sending a couple droplets of water flying out of his hair. “Just tired.”

“Alright. Get some rest,” Ignis replies. If he gives Gladio a look, it goes unnoticed. Gladio’s too busy watching Noctis crawl into the small bed, turning his back to them all. Eventually, Gladio closes the book he hadn’t been reading and lies down, staring at the ceiling. The lights turn off once Prompto’s finally done getting ready, but Gladio doesn’t close his eyes for a long time.

When he finally does, he sleeps very little, tossing and turning restlessly.

He wakes up before anyone else, even Ignis, and writes off sleep as a lost cause. He’s out for a run before dawn’s even technically broken. It’s a dangerous game, he knows. The creatures that are only out at night could still choose to attack him in the minutes before dawn.

But, he supposes, that’s why he has his sword strapped to his back.

The run is good. It simultaneously invigorates his body while calming his mind. The feeling of his feet pounding on the pavement is soothing, even after the sun finally rises. By the time he gets back to the hotel, everyone’s already gone. He showers again, taking much less time than the night before, before changing and heading out to find them.

The last part isn’t hard. Ignis and Prompto are in the hotel lobby, talking to Jared and his grandson. He’s only just come down and joined them when Noctis and Iris walk in together.

As if they hadn’t been with Prompto and Ignis before.

A frisson of…something runs through him upon seeing them walk through the doors together, smiling and talking like the old friends they are. Gladio chooses to ignore whatever that  _something_ is and focus on Talcott’s story He’s just tired. After all, he hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before.

The kid sends them off on a rumor of a lost tomb, and Gladio doesn’t even have the energy to claim it as a waste of time. More dead kings. More spirit weapons that make no sense to him. It might be worth it in the end, he supposes, but Gladio has to admit he’s unconvinced the kid’s got real intel. He’s maybe 10; how would he know the location of some hidden tomb when even professional hunters don’t?

But, as it turns out, the kid isn’t full of shit after all.

Everything about it seems to be business as usual – well, the new usual – inside the cave. Gladio can tell he’s gotten stronger, that they’ve all gotten stronger. It’s a rush to find out that they can hold their own among the daemons. That is, until they get out. The weapon’s part of Noctis’ special spiritual weapon store, something Gladio still doesn’t fully understand, and the sun is just barely rising. And that’s when Noctis keels over suddenly, holding his head and gasping.

Gladio makes an aborted movement to help him, but Prompto gets there first. “Noct? You okay?”

“What did I…Where was that?” Noctis asks, as if any of them have any idea what’s going on.

“What is it?” Gladio asks, concern leaking through his voice.

“A hole in the ground,” Noctis answers. “Something burning…The meteor?”

“You saw the Disc of Cauthess?” Ignis asks, somehow sounding both surprised and not at all.

\---

The headaches plague Noctis the whole ride back to Lestallum. They don’t come with any regularity, and they’re not in any way normal. Not even normal for the strangeness that surrounds the prince. Gladio finds himself getting progressively more and more concerned. So when Noctis folds over on himself in the hotel, he intervenes. “Not again,” Noctis breathes.

“What’s the matter? You alright?” Iris asks.

Before she can get too close, Gladio steps forward. “He’ll be fine, don’t worry.” He grabs Noctis’ shoulder, steadying him. “We oughta take a closer look at this so-called ‘disc’,” he tells Ignis and Prompto. Gladio can’t ignore the way the prince is shaking under his hand. Like he’s about to be violently sick. He tightens his grip on the prince’s shoulder, keeping him from collapsing.

Staring at the meteor from the overlook isn’t going to solve anything, that much Gladio knows. But it’s a start and he doesn’t have a better idea aside from driving to the meteor itself. But that idea is a bad one, and he knows that. That’s why he lets Prompto drag them to the overlook.

In retrospect, he never should’ve taken Prompto’s advice.

Ardyn, if that even is his real name, is absolutely stalking Noctis. Of  _that_ , Gladio is positive. He seems slimy at best, but more likely he’s working for the empire somehow. Gladio isn’t sure how, but he wouldn’t put it past the guy. There’s something off about him at the very least. But Noctis’ headaches are getting worse, and none of them have any ideas better than getting him to the Disc. And not just that but they have no idea how to get him in once they get there. Not with the empire controlling everything in the area. As much as he hates to admit it, Gladio knows this is the best plan they have.

But he still hates it.

“This isn’t a good idea,” he mutters to Ignis when they slide into the back seat together.

“Have you got a better one?” Ignis replies curtly.

“No, but –“

“Then drop it and watch Noct’s back. We can’t afford to let this stranger lower our guards.”

At least Gladio isn’t the only one convinced that this guy is bad news. If there’s one thing he can trust it’s that Ignis will always have Noctis’ back. No matter what. So they do what Ardyn says, and they follow him towards the Disc.

When Ardyn insists on stopping and staying in the caravan, Gladio thinks that means he’ll stay with them. But the guy disappears, seeming to leave them to their own devices. Even so, they stay on their toes. Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis all take watches during the night while Noctis sleeps. It’s the second night in a row that Gladio ends up sleeping fitfully, alone on the couch when he’s not on duty.

He needs to pull himself together.

Ignis, who had taken the last watch, is already cooking breakfast by the time Gladio gives up on sleeping. “Anything strange?” he asks, walking into the small kitchen.

“Not a peep,” Ignis replies, not even looking up from his cooking.

“Somehow that seems stranger.”

“I’d like for this adventure to come to an end as soon as possible,” Ignis agrees. “Wake up Prompto and Noct for me. Breakfast’s ready.”

“Yeah,” Gladio agrees. “Let’s get this show on the road.” The sooner this is over, the better.

Noctis at least seems to have slept well, given how the headaches come and go. Still though, all of them are tense at the thought of him behind the wheel. Ardyn is still insistent upon that point though, so Noctis once again takes the driver’s seat, leaving Ignis and Gladio in the back. Gladio dutifully ignores the way Ignis’s fists seem to tighten with every sudden stop and the way he’s sitting stiffly upright looking straight ahead.

Somehow, shockingly, they manage to get through the gates. Ardyn’s crazy plan works, which just makes Gladio more suspicious. Likely Ignis too, judging by the look he gives Gladio the second they get onto the dirt road.

“Wow, that worked?” Prompto asks, voicing all their thoughts out loud.

It’s a relief for all of them when they reach the bottom of the dirt road and have to continue on foot.

The sight of the royal tomb should be another relief, but instead Gladio gets a tight knot in his stomach as he expects an ambush. Ardyn had led them straight to a royal tomb without following them in. There’s no way this is coincidence.

“Let’s grab it and go,” Noctis says.

They’re all stiff and at alert while Noctis takes the sword, but nothing happens.

Immediately.

Five seconds later there’s an earthquake and the ground beneath Noctis drops out from under him.

Time slows down as Gladio watches Noctis’ head disappear from view. Falling…falling…falling…

He isn’t even aware that he’s moved until he leaps, jumping off the platorm. There’s a ledge below, where Noctis lands, but the momentum the prince had keeps him sliding. Gladio runs forward with a shout. “Noct! I gotcha!”

For a terrifying moment he thinks that this is the end. That Noctis is gonna slip out of his hand and fall somewhere Gladio can’t reach. But somehow Noctis manages to hold on, and with his help, Gladio pulls him back up onto the ledge where they both collapse.

A loud rumbling sounds from behind him, as Noctis whispers, “What the –?”

The Archean is staring down at them, but there doesn’t seem to be any imminent danger. Yet. They need to get out of here, so Gladio takes the lead, looking for a way out. Headaches or no headaches, Noctis can’t stay down here. It isn’t safe, especially without Prompto and Ignis to watch their backs.

Then, of course, the damn Titan decides that the best way to talk to Noctis is by attacking them. And Noctis’s response is…to whine.

“I’m sick of this endless walking,” Noctis complains, and that does it. The lack of sleep the past two nights combine together with the worry over Noctis’ headaches and getting them out of here, and Gladio explodes.

He grabs the front of Noctis’ shirt, hauling him upright. “And I’m sick of your endless whining,” he snaps. “Calm the hell down.”

“Get off my back.”

Gladio wants to shake him again. He wants to shove him against the wall and punch his perfect princely face until Noctis fights back. He misses the anger and the rage from when Insomnia had first been taken. He misses the old Noctis whose biggest worry was if Luna would still like him after all these years apart. The Noctis who didn’t confuse him with the strange sleepovers that start and stop on a whim.

“Are you a man of royal blood or aren’t you?”

“Above all else, I’m just a man,” Noctis responds, not meeting Gladio’s eyes.

He misses the sense of normalcy he’d had when he’d been training to be the King’s Shield.

“When you can’t focus, I focus for you,” Gladio tells him. “It’s my job, so let me do it. Alright?”

“Alright,” Noctis agrees quietly.

“Sorry,” Gladio apologizes as they start moving again. “I had to get that out.”

It should be smooth sailing from here, but the empire, being the empire, can never really let things be simple. The two of them encounter a troop of soldiers before Noctis can even  _try_  talking to the titan.  and then before Gladio can do anything, Noctis is falling again.

Without thinking twice, he dives again.

Gladio lands hard on his side, jarring his shoulder, but he ignores it as he sees the titan trying to stomp the life out of Noctis.

“Noct!” Gladio yells, rushing forward and tackling the prince out of the way before they can both be crushed. “Are you alright?”

“I owe you one.”

“This ain’t gonna work. We gotta run,” Gladio tells him. He stays long enough to make sure Noctis isn’t going to be a pain again, before rushing off in the direction he sincerely hopes is the exit. He won’t let Noctis die here, even if that means single-handedly trying to stop the Archean.

And yes, he tries. Gladio uses himself as a barrier, acting as if he really is the King’s Shield, even if neither he nor Noctis hold the necessary titles. He’s able to hold out just long enough for Noctis to get away, but the Titan isn’t letting them go that easily. They have to stay and fight.

In the end it’s truly a miracle that they make it out of there alive. Gladio’s torn between thanking Ardyn for saving them and killing him before he can cause any more trouble. In the end he does nothing, choosing to take blessings as they come and hoping that this doesn’t come back to bite them later.

\---

Without the car things get rough again. They can’t get as far or do as much until they get it back, but they also have no idea how to get there. Having the car would make it a lot easier to chase the god Gentiana told Noctis about, but there’s no helping that now. For now they’re on foot or chocobos, neither of which are as fast or convenient as the Regalia.

And, of course, Gladio still can’t sleep. They camp and stay in caravans when they need to as they hunt for…whatever it is that will take them to the god. But no matter what all they do, no matter how hard they work all day or how long they stay up, Gladio just can’t fall asleep. He makes his way through his book and trades it for another, reading it into the late stretches of the night and continuing to read when he wakes up before everyone else.

On the third night of this, while they’re camped in the haven outside the last of the lightning, Noctis interrupts.

“Gladio?”

Gladio looks up from his book, which he’d been reading by firelight just outside of the tent. He’s two pages from the end, which means he’ll need another one soon. “Noct,” he greets in surprise. “What are you doing up?”

“I just was thirsty. Are you keeping watch?”

Gladio looks around them, at the blue lit sigils in the ground protecting them from the darkness beyond. “No. Do we need one?”

“No. But…why are you awake then?”

Gladio winces. “Nothing. Just couldn’t sleep,” he grunts.

“Is that why your eyes have been so red?”

Gladio touches the skin under his eyes. “Probably,” he concedes.

“How long?”

Gladio grunts. “Get some sleep Noct. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

Noctis steps forward. “How long haven’t you been sleeping, Gladio?” He isn’t going to give up, that much is clear.

Gladio sighs. “Almost a week,” he concedes.

If the light were brighter, maybe he’d be able to see the expression on Noctis’ face. As it is, he isn’t sure he wants to. “A week?” Noctis asks.

“Almost,” Gladio corrects.

“And you didn’t tell any of us?”

Gladio snaps his book shut with a sigh, accepting that he’s not going to get any more reading done, at least not as long as Noctis is asking questions. “No,” he answers. “It hasn’t affected my ability to fight or protect you, so I didn’t need to.”

Noctis snorts, taking the seat next to him. “And I don’t suppose you think it’s affected your mood either?”

“You sound like Ignis.”

“Who do you think taught me to be self-righteous?”

This time Gladio is the one who snorts. “Well, it works better for him than for you. You’re better as the snot nosed prince.”

Noctis reaches out and shoves Gladio’s knee. “I haven’t been snot nosed since I was a kid.”

“Sure you haven’t.”

Noctis shoves him again. “Are you done making fun of me or can we talk about why you can’t sleep?”

“I’ll never be done making fun of you.”

“Why can’t you sleep, Gladio?”

Gladio taps his fingers against the binding of his latest book. “I don’t know,” he answers eventually.

Noctis nods. “Well, obviously you aren’t trying hard enough.” He stands up. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

Noctis gives him a look as if Gladio should’ve already known the answer. “Bed.”

It’s a hopeless wish, definitely a lost cause, but Gladio obeys regardless. He stands up, abandoning the book on his chair and follows Noctis into the tent. Ignis is fast asleep, not a hair out of place even when unconscious. Prompto on the other hand is sprawled out  and drooling with his face pressed into the bedroll. Gladio moves to change but before he can even strip off his shirt, Noctis is already dragging his own bedroll across the floor.

“What are you doing?” Gladio asks in a whisper, shirt halfway off his shoulder.

“You’re asking really dumb questions tonight,” Noctis whispers back. “You should get more sleep.”

“Very funny,” Gladio responds.

Noctis drops his sleeping bag down and opens it. “Well I’m tired so I’m going to bed. You can do what you want.”

Gladio chuckles quietly before continuing to strip down to his tank and boxer. “You win.”

He lays down next to Noctis, aware of how close they are. He stays on his back, staring at the roof of the tent. He shouldn’t be this close. He thought they were past this; that Noctis was done with needing this kind of comfort. And yet here they are, but this time he’s the one who needs to be comforted. If comfort is even the right word.

Whatever other thoughts he has disappear, because the next thing he remembers he’s waking up to the sound of Prompto’s voice and the smell of Ignis’ cooking. Gladio sits up, confused and finds the second bedroll next to him empty. He gets out of the tent feeling dazed and yet better rested than he has in days. In a week.

“Look who finally decided to join us,” Prompto jokes.

“You look like hell,” Noctis adds.

“Very funny,” Gladio counters.

Ignis turns towards them with a breakfast that smells amazing. “If you’re all done poking fun at Gladiolus for sleeping in late, breakfast is ready.”

\---

The power that Noctis gets from Ramuh is impressive to say the least. It helps them take out the empire base and get the Regalia back. Gladio had been feeling pretty good about himself. He’d been getting sleep lately; ever since that night that Noctis invited him back into the bedroll he hasn’t had any issues. So long as he sleeps next to Noctis.

They’d destroyed the base, gotten their car back, and Noctis has the power to do it almost single-handedly. And then Ravus has to show his slimy face. “Long has it been, Noctis.”

“Ravus,” Noctis says.

Immediately, Gladio steps in front of the prince. Future brother-in-law or not, this guy is a servant of the empire and will hurt Noctis. He’s always been jealous of Noctis.

“You receive the Storm’s blessing,” Ravus continues, as if he doesn’t sense the killing intent of the people he’s talking to. Or maybe he just doesn’t care. “And yet you know nothing of the consequences.” Ravus swings his blade, raising it to Noctis’ chin. Noctis steps back, but with each step back Ravus takes one forward.

Gladio refuses to stand idly by while some jealous wannabe King threatens Noctis. He won’t do it. “Watch it,” he says stepping forward only to have the sword leveled at him instead. Better his neck than Noctis’. Across from him, Ignis steps forward but Ravus holds out his hand, the one that isn’t flesh. “Be still, all of you,” he commands.

Ignis pauses. They all do, unsure of Ravus’ next move.

“Heir to a crown befitting no other,” Ravus mocks. “Witness his splendor and glory. All hail the Chosen King.”

It’s a dangerous situation, but Noctis being Noctis can never just let things go. “Awful high and mighty for an imperial rat, serving the enemy to hunt down Luna,” he spits.

Ravus grabs Noctis by the neck with his metallic hand. “I don’t serve,” he shouts back, shoving Noctis back by the neck. “I command!”

Gladio moves only a second before Prompto, rushing to put himself between Noctis and Ravus. “The king’s sworn shield,” Ravus mocks.

“You better believe it,” Gladio shoots back.

“A weak shield protects naught,” Ravus counters, raising his sword.

Gladio reacts on instinct as Ravus swings. His sword appears barely in time for Ravus’ to connect with it in a clatter. He has to use both hands to keep his sword in place. But even with all his strength, he’s no match for Ravus. The other man is barely exerting any effort, using a single hand with his thin sword to bring Gladio nearly to his knees. Ravus releases him, giving him only a moment’s reprieve before swinging his sword again. This time, Gladio can’t react. He’s caught in the stomach and flung backwards, hitting something hard behind him with a clatter just as Noctis shouts his name.

Prompto is the first to reach him, to try and help him struggle to his feet. But Gladio’s too weak. He watches, almost completely separate from himself as Noctis stands in front of him, prepared to fight Ravus or die. 

And again, it falls to someone else to do what Gladio’s job is: protect Noctis.

\---

Nothing changes after Gladio’s latest failure. Ignis grants him a look of something like pity, Prompto offers him a potion, and Noctis doesn’t bring it up. 

Nothing changes. 

They take the Regalia and ride back to Lestallum, and the only topic of conversation is the Empire. They stop at a campsite, and still no one says anything about it. Noctis pulls his bedroll alongside Gladio, and lies down like nothing’s wrong.

But that night he can’t sleep. He stares up at the roof of the tent, and all he can think about is how helpless he is. He’s trained his entire life to be the King’s Shield. He woke up every morning at the crack of dawn and went for a run before training with swords and shields and hand-to-hand combat. All that before breakfast.

None of it means anything if he can’t even hold his own against one man with a thin sword.

But worst of all is that every time he blinks he sees new images. Him not stepping in the way and Ravus slicing Noctis’ neck. Ardyn not interfering while Ravus cutting down Noctis right in front of Gladio as he watches helpless, on his knees. Gladio’s heart races at the thought that had he been a second slower, Noctis would be dead.

Noctis could be dead right now.

Gladio turns his head and stares at the sleeping prince, looking calmer than he had since before any of this happened. The Empire will never stop chasing Noctis, Gladio realizes. And Noctis will never stop trying to get his revenge and secure his birthright.

But Gladio can’t protect him. Not the way he is now.

The only thing that scares Gladio, truly scares him, is the thought of Noctis dead. He wishes he could say it’s purely from his sense of duty, but it isn’t. It’s not only friendship either.

Noctis may have nothing more than a little crush on Gladio, but today taught Gladio something: he’s developed feelings. Against everything he’d told Ignis back before they’d started this nightmare of a road trip, he’s developed feelings for Noctis. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but he can’t deny the pure fear that wracked him the moment the sword was leveled at Noctis’ neck. He cares too much and not in the way he’s supposed to.

He has to leave.

He can’t protect Noctis the way he is, and he can’t trust himself around the prince anymore either. He’s a liability the way he is. Ignis has been devoted to Noctis forever, and he’s stronger for it. Prompto has had feelings for Noctis since as long as Gladio can remember  and it never gets in the way of him doing what he has to. Gladio had thought he was above it all, that he would never fall prey to Noctis’ charm. But he has and he’s too weak to handle it.

So when they arrive in Lestallum and make the decision to take Iris away, Gladio knows that’s his shot.

He’s going to leave.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/rinthegreat_ao3) and [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/rinthegreat/).
> 
> Art by [Konnah](https://www.instagram.com/konnah_fart/?hl=en). Do not repost. Thank you!


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